


Joined at the Wrist

by arysa13



Series: Two Week Challenge - Round Two [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Handcuffs, Humor, Pining, Platonic showering together, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 00:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18324932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: Clarke and Bellamy make a bet with Raven and Murphy to see who can stay handcuffed together for longer.





	Joined at the Wrist

Clarke isn’t really sure how she got herself into this situation. Okay, well she’s knows _how,_ she just isn’t sure why it’s still happening. It had seemed like a great idea to make a bet with Raven and Murphy last night, when they were all drunk. Somehow that bet still stands, though it’s 10am the next morning.

“Twenty-four hours,” Monty reminds them. The handcuff clicks into place around Clarke’s wrist. She glances at Bellamy and her stomach flips over. He gives her an amused look. She can totally handle being handcuffed to him for twenty-four hours. He’s her best friend, and sure, sometimes they argue. But not as much as Raven and Murphy. She’s less worried about the arguing than she is about the possibility that being handcuffed to him for twenty-four hours might make her stupid crush even worse. But she’s sure it will be fine.

Monty moves over to Raven and Murphy, where he secures the handcuffs around their wrists too.

“We know the rules,” Raven says. “We are the ones who came up with them.”

“I’m just reminding you.”

“This is going to be hilarious,” Bellamy smirks. “They’ll be begging Monty to unlock them within two hours.”

“Please,” Murphy scoffs. “There is no way you and Clarke can last longer than us.”

“Seriously, guys,” Monty sighs. “All four of you are way too competitive, and this is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

“It was Raven’s idea,” Clarke says.

“It was not! It was your idea.”

“I think it was my idea,” Murphy interjects.

Raven rolls her eyes. “You’ll take credit for anything, won’t you?”

“I don’t see you taking credit for it.”

Bellamy nudges Clarke. “See, they’re already arguing. This is going to be a cake walk.”

“Alright, you’re all handcuffed. Now you can leave me alone. Only come back if you need me to unlock you,” Monty says. “But remember that means you lose the bet.”

“We never decided what happens if we both last the whole twenty-four hours,” Clarke points out. “Do we all just keep our money?”

“That’s not going to be a problem, since you and Bellamy are going to cave long before the day is out,” Raven says, looking smug.

“Guys I love you, but please get out of my house before I go insane,” Monty says. He ushers the two pairs towards the door.

Outside, Murphy and Raven head in one direction, while Clarke and Bellamy go in the other. Murphy gives them the finger with his free hand, grinning, before Raven tugs on the cuffs to drag him along. Clarke snorts out a laugh. Bellamy’s right. Raven and Murphy won’t last two hours. She and Bellamy have this in the bag.

“Do they honestly think they can stand each other for a whole twenty-four hours?” Clarke says as they walk towards Bellamy’s car. They’d arranged earlier that she would stay at his place tonight, while Raven and Murphy stay at Clarke and Raven’s place.

“They’re deluding themselves,” Bellamy agrees. They reach his car and as they try to separate to go to their respective sides, the cuffs pull and snap them back together.

“Right,” Bellamy grins. “We’re stuck together.”

“Somehow this is one thing I didn’t think of,” Clarke muses.

“You’ll just have to crawl over onto the other side.”

“Me? Why do I have to crawl?”

“It’s my car. And I’m bigger than you.”

“So?”

“So it’s easier for you.”

“You’re more agile than I am.”

“Says who?”

“Which one of us actually goes to the gym, hm?”

Bellamy huffs. “Okay. We’ll just do rock paper scissors to see who has to crawl over.”

“Fine.”

Bellamy wins, much to Clarke’s chagrin, and he looks all too pleased with himself as she crawls over the driver’s seat. She has to keep her arm out so she doesn’t pull it off, and she bangs her knee on the gearshift as she crawls over it. Plus, she’s pretty sure Bellamy has a very unflattering view of her ass right now. Not that it matters, because he very clearly wouldn’t be attracted to her anyway, even if she had a smaller ass and always looked pretty around him.

She settles into her seat, red-faced from the effort, and Bellamy gets in beside her. She glowers at him, and he looks a little sheepish.

“You’ll have to keep your hand on the gearshift,” Bellamy says. “Or right next to it at least.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t be like that,” Bellamy says. “I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

“Then you shouldn’t do things to make me mad. Even if it’s just in the interest of winning the bet.”

“You know I don’t really care about the bet, right?”

“Well it’s too late to back out now. The only way you’re getting rid of me is if you cut off my hand,” Clarke says.

Bellamy grins. “You’re lucky I like your hands so much.”  

Clarke would very much like to bite back at him with a quip of her own, but his comment throws her, and she finds herself blushing instead. He always manages to shut her up with a compliment, which he knows. That’s why he does it. Not because he actually means them. Hopefully he mistakes her embarrassment for annoyance. Damn him for being so stupidly charming.

“You’re dumb,” Clarke says, and it’s clear Bellamy has won the argument, even though Clarke isn’t even sure what the argument was about.

Bellamy starts the car. “This is going to be fun.”

Fun isn’t exactly what Clarke would call it. Bellamy lets her be the one to get out of the car first while he crawls over to her side, to make up for earlier, but that’s really the least of their worries.

As they head inside to Bellamy’s apartment, one of his neighbours gives them a strange look.

“Don’t worry, she’s into it,” Bellamy tells the neighbour. The neighbour just looks more scandalised.

“Bellamy!” Clarke hisses, once the neighbour is out of earshot. “She definitely thought this was a sex thing.”

“I know,” Bellamy says. They get to his front door and he unlocks the door. “Although I don’t know why. Being handcuffed to you isn’t that sexy. You being handcuffed, on the other hand—”

“Oh my god, shut up.” She so doesn’t need the image. Doesn’t need Bellamy figuring out that she’s imagined it before, with her fingers between her legs, getting herself off while she imagines him on top of her, doing whatever he likes to her while her hands are restrained.

“Sorry,” he says, but he’s grinning, and he obviously finds the idea hilarious.

“Are we going inside or what?”

Bellamy pushes the door open. Clarke’s eyes immediately fall on the clock on the wall. Ten-thirty. Only twenty-three and a half hours to go.

The argue over what they’re going to watch on Netflix, and then they argue over what they’re going to have for lunch. Clarke is aware that she’s the one starting most of the arguments. The thing is, she doesn’t even really care about the outcome. She doesn’t care whether they watch The Good Place or Santa Clarita Diet. She doesn’t care if they order food or if Bellamy tries to make something. But she argues about it anyway. Perhaps because it’s the only way she can get out the tension she feels between them. She converts her sexual frustration into regular frustration, getting annoyed at him about unimportant things, because she can’t ask him to fuck her.

Maybe she should just ask him. He’s a good friend. If she tells him she just needs to get laid he’d probably help her out, even if he’s not really into her that way. Then again, even if by some miracle he actually said yes, and she got her sexual satisfaction, it wouldn’t negate the fact that she’s half in love with him. In fact, it would probably just make it worse.

He eventually gives in to her, both on the Netflix decision and the lunch decision, which only annoys Clarke more.

After lunch, Clarke realises she needs to pee. But she really, _really_ doesn’t want to pee in front of him. Yeah, she really didn’t think this through. He’s the one to bring it up first.

“Okay, how are we going to navigate the bathroom situation?” he asks. “I’m fine with you being there when I pee, but I feel like you’re not going to be fine with it.”

“Why would you think that? I don’t care if I hear you pee, and it’s not like I’m going to look.”

“Well, ditto.”

“So we’re agreed.”

“Should we do it now?”

“Let’s get it over with.”

Bellamy goes first, at Clarke’s insistence. Her hand gets uncomfortably close to his crotch as he undoes his fly. She can feel a flush creeping over her face and chest, even though she’s turned away from him and can’t see anything.

“Can I have my hand back yet?”

“I need two hands to hold it. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Clarke says quickly. Does needing two hands mean his cock is really big? Or just that he has shitty aim? _Don’t think about it_ , Clarke scolds herself.

When it’s her turn, she awkwardly manages to get her pants down while Bellamy politely looks away. She holds her arm out to the side when she sits down so he doesn’t have to be too close to her. But it’s still too weird to actually pee while he’s there.

“Are you going to go, or what?” Bellamy asks.

“I’m trying! It’s weird, okay?”

“You want me to sing so I can’t hear you?”

“Yes.”

He starts to sing, badly. Clarke doesn’t even recognise the song at first. But at least she can pee now. And now that that’s done, Clarke is pretty sure they’ll be able to get through the rest of the day easily. Nothing else can be as awkward as peeing with him in the room.

“We should go out for a while,” Bellamy suggests.

“But we’re handcuffed together.”

“We’ll walk somewhere.”

“People will think it’s a sex thing.”

“So?”

Clarke shrugs. She supposes if he doesn’t have a problem with it, then she doesn’t either. “Where are we going?”

They walk to the park, despite the fact that there are now dark clouds looming overhead, and Clarke is pretty sure it’s going to rain any minute. Bellamy is adamant that it won’t rain until later. Clarke half wants it to rain on them just to prove him wrong.

There’s hardly anyone else at the park, seeing as everyone else is too smart to go out when it’s obviously going to rain.

“I can’t remember what people do at parks,” Clarke muses as she and Bellamy walk side by side along the path. Their hands brush with every step. Clarke supposes that’s a side effect of being handcuffed together.

“Walk. Run. Jog. Ride bikes.”

“So, not fun stuff,” Clarke says.

“Exercise can be fun,” Bellamy says defensively.

“Maybe riding a bike, if it’s a nice day and the ground it totally flat and there are no hills. But that seems a bit ambitious anyway, for two people handcuffed together.”

“I’d be willing to try it.”

Clarke feels a drop of rain on her face. Then another. Two seconds later, it’s pouring. She looks at Bellamy. He sighs.

“Don’t say anything.”

They make a run for it, towards a gazebo, where they can hopefully wait out the rain. Running is harder when one is handcuffed to someone else, and Bellamy is faster than Clarke, and she ends up tripping, over her own feet, probably. She lands in a deceptively deep puddle, and drags Bellamy down into it with her.

“Fuck.”

“Agreed.”

Bellamy gets up first, and helps Clarke up. They’re both soaking wet and covered in mud.

“I feel like we may as well walk back to your place,” Clarke says. “We’re already wet and dirty.”

“Yeah we are,” Bellamy winks.

“Really? Even now?”

“Just trying to make the best of the bad situation. Come on. Let’s go home.”

The walk back to Bellamy’s apartment is uncomfortable. The rain doesn’t let up, and neither of them are in a good mood when they finally get back inside.

“We should call Monty,” Bellamy says.

“What? No! We only have eighteen hours to go.”

“Clarke, come on,” Bellamy groans. “We both need a shower. I’m not spending eighteen hours like this.”

“Well…” Clarke starts, chewing her lip. She does want a shower. But she’ll be damned if she lets Raven and Murphy win. “You have a pretty big shower.”

Bellamy stares at her. “Are you suggesting… we shower together?”

“We just won’t look at each other. We’ll stand back to back.”

“You really want to win this, don’t you?”

“You know I do.”

He hesitates. She can see him mulling the idea over in his mind. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

They realise quickly, once in the bathroom, that getting their shirts off isn’t going to be an easy task. The only answer is to cut them off each other. Clarke laughs nervously as Bellamy slices through her sleeve, with his left hand, no less. 

“You okay?” he asks her.

“Of course,” Clarke says. It’s just that he’s very close to her, and he’s all wet and muddy, and somehow that’s a good look for him. Plus, he’s cutting her top off her, which is not how she imagined him undressing her in her fantasies, but it’s still absurdly hot.

He watches her as she pulls the rest of her shirt off, then quickly looks away, embarrassed, when he realises she’s standing there in her bra. She takes the scissors from him and starts cutting through the material of his t-shirt.

“This is so weird,” he laughs. Clarke is comforted by the fact that he feels as awkward about this as she does.

“You’re okay with this, right?” Clarke asks. “I really want to win the bet, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He looks at her. His eyes flick down to her chest, and his face reddens. “I’m okay with it.”

“Okay.” She finishes cutting through his shirt, then helps him pull it off, though it’s probably unnecessary. Maybe she just wants an excuse to touch his chest. “This is the part where we look away,” Clarke says.

“I’ll get undressed first,” Bellamy offers. Clarke nods and turns away from him. Her arm gets yanked around as he removes his pants. Then he’s done and it’s Clarke’s turn to use their conjoined arms. She’s thankful her bra has removable straps so she doesn’t have to cut it off. Bellamy’s hand hovers excruciatingly close to her breasts as she fiddles with the hooks at the front. She manages to get the bra off without combusting from the thought of him touching her there.

She pulls her jeans and panties off, and then she’s naked. And he’s naked, and they’re in the same room, and she kind of wants to look.

“I’m done,” she says. Her voice sounds all nervous and breathy, and she hopes he doesn’t notice.

They shuffle into the shower, back to back, and Bellamy turns the water on. A blast of cold water hits them both, and Clarke squeals.

“Fuck, that’s cold,” Bellamy swears. He fiddles with the knobs and the water slowly starts to warm up. Clarke is careful not to step backwards at all. She’s acutely aware that he’s naked behind her, and the shower is big, but it’s not _that_ big.

They’re silent as they let the water run over them. Clarke wonders if Bellamy is feeling as tense as she is.

“Clarke?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you peeking?”

“No! Of course not. Are you?”

“No.”

Clarke bites her lip. “Do you want to?”

He hesitates. “Kind of. But I won’t.”

“Okay.”

“It’s just. I’m curious. Aren’t you curious?”

“About what you look like naked?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess so,” Clarke says. He has no idea. “In a totally platonic way, I mean.”

“Right. It’s like. You’re right there, and you’re naked. And it’s hard not to wonder…”

“Completely understandable,” Clarke says. “I mean, we could look. Would it be weird if we looked?”

“Definitely not.”

It’s probably stupid. It’s probably going to make things weird between them. But she really wants to see his dick. And if that means he has to see her naked, well, she can live with that. It’s not like he’s going to laugh at her or make fun of her, even if he doesn’t find her attractive. It’s a natural curiosity, that’s all.

“On the count of three?”

“Okay,” Bellamy agrees.

“One. Two. Three.”

Clarke turns around slowly, keeping her eyes at chest height. She glances up to meet his eyes, but his attention is already captured far lower than her face. His pupils are blown, and his gaze is heavy on her. Almost like… almost like he actually _wants_ her. Clarke fights the urge to cover herself. She lets her own eyes trail down his wet chest and down to his cock. Her heart is beating erratically and she’s barely breathing.

She almost whimpers out loud when she finally gets a look at him. He’s thick and long and he’s fucking half hard. She wants to put her mouth on him and get him all the way there. She squeezes her thighs together, trying to stop the gentle pulse between her legs.

“Fuck,” Bellamy breathes. “God, you are so fucking gorgeous.”

Clarke fights the urge to laugh. “Please, Bellamy, you don’t have to say that.”

He finally looks up from her naked body to meet her eyes. “You think I’m lying?”

“Duh. You’re hot, I’m not.”

“Clarke,” he says. He shakes his head. “Do you seriously not think you’re hot?”

“I mean,” she shrugs. “Not to you, at least.”

“Why do you think I wanted to see you naked?”

“Because… you have a natural curiosity about the human body?”

“Clarke,” he says. His voice is all deep and throaty, and it makes her shiver. “I wanted to see you naked because I’m insanely attracted to you.”

“Oh,” Clarke says. Her face grows hot. “Me too.”

“That’s what I was hoping,” Bellamy says. He steps towards her, and Clarke flattens herself against the tiles. He steps backwards.

“Sorry,” he says. He looks away.

“No, it’s okay,” Clarke says quickly. “I want you to—”

He looks at her sharply and she cuts herself off. “Yeah?”

“I want you to kiss me.”

He moves towards her again, closer this time. He puts his fingers to her chin and tilts her face up towards him. Clarke’s breath hitches as he leans down to kiss her. She presses up towards him, opening her mouth to him, brushing her tongue against his. The kiss has her head spinning and her clit throbbing.

“Bellamy,” she whispers as he pulls away. “Do you want me?”

“More than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”

“Fuck me. Please.”

“You sure?”

Clarke nods. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“God, me too,” Bellamy groans. He crushes his lips to hers, and his fingers dig into her hips. He moves his hand from her hip to her inner thigh, ghosting his fingers along her skin until he reaches her slit. She grinds down on his hand to let him know it’s okay to touch her there. He edges two fingers into her folds, her arousal coating his fingers.

With his other hand, the hand that’s still cuffed to Clarke, he intertwines his fingers with hers against the tiles. His lips are still on hers, and with every passing moment, every kiss, every gentle touch, Clarke gets more desperate to have him inside her. With her free hand, Clarke trails her fingers down his chest, then wraps them around his cock, now fully hard. He gasps into her mouth.

She guides him towards her entrance, and he groans as he pushes into her. Clarke remembers not to throw her head back at the last moment, lest she bash it against the tiles, but her mouth opens in a silent gasp as he fills her with his cock, stretching her beyond what she’s ever felt before.

“Bell, oh my god,” she moans. “You feel so good.”

“So do you, baby,” Bellamy pants. “Don’t know how long I can last.”

“I don’t care. Just fuck me hard.”

He fucks her against the tiles, so hard she thinks they might break, but she’s beyond caring. The only thing that exists is Bellamy, his skin on hers, his cock thrusting insider her. He comes before her, but in an instant his hand is on her clit bringing her over the edge with him. She cries out as she comes, then buries her head into his shoulder, breathing heavily in time with him.

“You okay?” Bellamy asks her. She laughs.

“Yes. More than okay.”

“It’s not exactly how I imagined our first time.”

Clarke lifts her head to look at him. She’s never seen him look so unsure of himself.

“You imagined it?”

Bellamy presses his forehead against hers. “Hundreds of times.”

“What did you imagine?”

“You, in my bed. Me, kissing you all over, going down on you for an hour before I finally fucked you nice and slow. I make you come at least twice before I come.”

Clarke smiles shyly. “We can still do that.”

Bellamy lifts his hand, pulling Clarke’s with it. He nods to the cuffs. “I also didn’t imagine we’d be handcuffed together.”

“I think we can work around that.”

“Yeah, I think I can make it work,” Bellamy says. He leans in to kiss her. “We’re wasting water.”

“So take me to your room already,” Clarke laughs.

Bellamy shuts off the water and they get out of the shower. They wrap towels around themselves, not out of modesty, but so they don’t drip water everywhere.

As they come out of the bathroom, Clarke can hear Bellamy’s phone ringing. They make a detour to the living room where it’s sitting on the coffee table.

“Monty,” Bellamy says.

“Answer,” Clarke tells him. Bellamy picks up the phone and puts it on speaker.

“Monty, what’s up?”

“Murphy and Raven caved. Do you want to come over here so I can unlock you?”

Clarke shakes her head at Bellamy. She barely even cares about the bet anymore. All she wants is for Bellamy to fuck her all night. She doesn’t need Monty interrupting that. Bellamy eyes Clarke in amusement.

“Uhh, I think we’re good for now,” he says.

“Really?” Monty asks. “Why?”

“No reason. Just out of curiosity, why did Raven and Murphy cave?”

“I think it’s best if they tell you that.”

“They’re fucking, aren’t they?” Clarke guesses.

“I will neither confirm or deny. Are you guys sure you don’t want to be free from each other?”

“Nope, we’re good!” Clarke says.

There’s a pause before Monty says. “You guys are fucking too, aren’t you?”

“Bye, Monty!” Bellamy says, ending the call. He throws his phone onto the couch. “Come on,” he says to Clarke. “Murphy may need two hands to please a woman, but I don’t need any.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” Clarke snorts. Bellamy tugs on the cuffs, pulling her close to him. Her towel drops to the ground.

“You’ll see why soon enough,” he smirks, before kissing her. “We’re not taking these cuffs off until I’ve made you come at least three times.”

“Well, finally we agree on something,” Clarke laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> main tumblr: keiraknighted  
> fic tumblr: arysafics


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